


checkmate

by silencedmockingjay



Series: this world is a game [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gamer AU - Freeform, Heavy Angst, M/M, Romantic Friendship, hohohohhohohoho, how is that a thing, i love games, no game no life au, yall ain't prepared for shit i guarantee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11585532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silencedmockingjay/pseuds/silencedmockingjay
Summary: To: “		“Sender: UnknownWell done.If you’re that good at games -The world must be a tough place for you to live in, right?***When genius gamers Viktor and Yuuri received an email from an unknown person, challenging them to a chess game online - well, they didn't exactly expect to suddenly be getting a free 10,000 metre skydive with an insane boy who called himself the God of Games.(or: the self-indulgent NGNL au nobody asked for but I wrote anyways)





	checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the actual main story for my this world is a game series! FINALLY! 
> 
> There is a completed prequel to this, so do check it out [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11408559/chapters/25554402) before you read this! I highly recommend you guys to read the prequel first if you haven't already, to orientate yourselves. 
> 
> This story is going to be taking a dive into the NGNL universe so yes there are going to be fantasy elements! Don't worry, all will be explained... in good time :)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Also, my beta/writer friend, miraculouskatsukii aka Andi, is a beautiul tropical fish go shower some love on her and her work please!

**_Respawn Chat_ **

 

**Pepper_Pupper: I died???**

 

**Krizariel: What the hell**

 

**lily_Wildflower: They’re awesome, though.**

 

**Gia: There were 1200 of us! How did 4 people-**

 

**AsamiKuroba: They have Eros in their team, that pretty much explains it**

 

**Sleeping_red: they’re monsters wtf**

 

**carryonmywaywardson: The other people are pretty good too, though. I got killed by one hit from… what’s his name, Philautia?**

 

**fallsintograce: What the hell, they have to be using cheats. They can’t be that good at only level 40.**

 

**yoyopliseskies: it’s ok fam**

 

**Krizariel: !!! @yoyopliseskies weren’t you the second last person left?????**

 

**yoyopliseskies: yeah, my HP got drained by eros’s poison + took too many hits from agape**

 

**Pepper_Pupper: oh so does that mean we’re dead?**

 

**yoyopliseskies: nope we have one more player and she’s a tough one to beat**

 

**moomoomoose: Who**

 

**yoyopliseskies: the strongest: Queen.**

 

*******

 

_ Impossible!  _

 

_ There are only 3 of them… 4 just now, before I took one out.  _

 

_ And they beat 1,199 players?! _

 

_ Run, Queen. Run, before they hit you. One of Eros’s shots will take you out. Dodge Agape. Go for the weakest link - Pragma, there… behind the both of them. JUMP!  _

 

Eros, standing from a high vantage point above the battlefield, is firing at her rapidly from a bazooka, black pellets causing explosions and clouds of purple poison to appear everywhere on the ground. 

 

_ DODGE!  _

 

She does, just in time, as Eros fires another bullet at the black chain and cage hanging above her, metal cage bars slamming down just as she sends her avatar into a forward roll and comes up with her staff and sword blazing. Just in time, because her mana bar is recharging fast, and she can finally use Bluecage Arrow. 

 

There’s just the slightest hint of a grin on her face as she presses key 2 to activate her skill. 

 

_ This… is the end.  _

 

The arrows fire, a maze of twisting neon blue spirals, honing in on the three remaining avatars with devastating accuracy. Pragma throws up a pink shield in front of Eros and Agape, but even from far away, Queen can already see the pink shield wavering and then breaking down into glasslike shards in front of the arrow’s relentless pursuit. 

 

A cloud of smoke erupts. 

 

_ You’re dead, Guild Blank.  _

 

And then a white sword slices open the smoke. 

 

_ What- _

 

It’s Agape, white armor glinting as he slashes open the smoke, while Eros leaps out from behind Pragma’s shield, bazooka replaced by twin pistols. 

 

_ How did they survive?  _

 

_ They must be using HP cheats. There’s no other way they could have  _

 

_ But.. too bad.  _

 

The slightest hint of a smirk appears on Queen’s face. 

 

_ Because I’m using cheats too.  _

 

Her mana bar shoots up from zero to full in 2 seconds. 

 

_ Got you.  _

 

And with a final huff of breath, she releases her most powerful spell. 

 

The lightning arrows crackle and arc towards the sky, forming, shaping, a laser beam of power that slices open one half of the arena - the half that Eros, Agape and Pragma are in - and it implodes in a cloud of fiery ash and smoke. 

 

_ Victory… is mine.  _

 

Then, out of the corner of her eye, there’s a flash of white. 

 

_ No way!  _

 

It’s Agape, leaping towards her, swinging back the sword, preparing for her death blow. 

 

_ They… dodged that too?  _

 

*******

 

_ Of the many legends out there, have you heard this one?  _

 

_ A group of unknown players, who win every single game they play with scores no one has ever come close to.  _

 

_ Their account names are always named after the 7 types of Greek loves, and their guild name is always empty, so they’re only known as “Blank”.  _

 

_ These gamers are said to be unbeatable.  _

 

_ Win after win. Win after win.  _

 

_ And so the rumours spread even faster.  _

 

_ Urban legends are a type of wish.  _

 

_ Because in reality, the least interesting answer is usually the correct one.  _

 

***

 

_ One hour earlier _

 

“FUCK!” Viktor screeches as his screen fuzzes out into grey and white static, his left-hand controller dropping uselessly to the ground. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

 

“For the love of god, Viktor, stop being so overdramatic,” Yuuri groans from where he’s seated on a huge black roller chair. “You still have the other controller, and we’re facing 1,200 players of Guild Night Owl, so could you  _ please  _ try not to die?” 

 

“My Philautia avatar’s losing HP fast,” Viktor grimaces, eyes fixed to the computer screen. “And, as you know, my Pragma avatar’s gone.” 

 

“You’re hopeless,” Yuuri declares, sticking out one very bare, pale foot in Viktor’s face, eyes speedily tracking both computer screens. “Here.” 

 

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Viktor hits pause on his game and turns to look at Yuuri, who’s just a silhouette illuminated by the flashing lights of the computers, mysterious and otherworldly.  

 

“Place the controller under my foot,” Yuuri huffs. “You’re hopeless at Fantasy Legend 2.” 

 

It takes a minute for Viktor to process that Yuuri is actually serious. 

 

“You want me to…” Viktor says slowly. “...Put the controller under your foot?” 

 

“Did you not hear what I said?” Yuuri isn’t even looking at him, brown eyes zipping at incredible speed to track movements, HP bars, mana bars, firing angles. “Controller. Under. Foot. And right now please, I need to back up myself.” 

 

Gingerly, Viktor edges the controller for his paused Pragma game avatar under Yuuri’s foot, and Yuuri immediately unpauses the game and starts pressing the buttons on it. 

 

With his  _ foot.  _

 

To be exact, his right foot. 

 

“How-” 

 

“Don’t question things, Viktor,” Yuuri mutters. “I’m trying to defeat the remaining 500 or so players on my own.” 

 

“You can let me help-” 

 

“And get another avatar killed? No thanks.” 

 

Yuuri probably can tell that Viktor deflates a little, because his tone changes from sharp to something more gentle. “It’s okay, Viktor. You’re learning fast for someone who’s only been at this for about a week.” 

 

“Says the boy who’s a human robot calculator at high speed and can calculate firing trajectories and HP drain faster than I can press the buttons of a controller,” Viktor mutters, slumping on Yuuri’s chair’s legs. It’s a huge black roller chair, the kinds that you find in an office, and the wheels are digging into Viktor’s back, but he’s too tired to care anymore. “How do you even stay up for 24 hours playing the  _ same game  _ over and over again?” 

 

“Too many challengers, too many time zones,” Yuuri explains, some tension dissipating from his shoulders. Viktor, risking a peek over Yuuri’s shoulder, sees that the challengers have dwindled down to maybe 20, 30? Yuuri’s foot is still tapping away at the controller, apparently busy healing Yuuri’s Eros and Agape avatars with the Pragma. The Eros avatar is zipping around the playing field, tackling players with perfect headshots and poisoned bullets in a dark flash, while Agape draws its sword and leaps from pillar to pillar to land hits on the stronger players. Pragma’s somewhere out of reach, beams of light exploding all over the arena and sending players fizzling into pixels. 

 

Then, all too soon, it’s down to one, and Yuuri is now tapping even more furiously on his three controllers, the Eros and Agape practically flying around the arena with their speed stats, while the Pragma hangs back, focused on healing itself. 

 

“The last one’s going to go for Pragma any moment now,” Viktor warns, propping himself up to watch the match. 

 

“Got that covered, thanks,” Yuuri replies easily, sending a bullet towards the metal links holding up a cage to block the last player’s escape route. “I didn’t think she’d give me such a hard time.” 

 

“And yet you’re still going to win,” Viktor points out. 

 

“That, too,” Yuuri smiles at him, and the game is momentarily forgotten as they dissolve into laughter. 

 

***

 

_ The world is chaotic, unreasonable and unfair.  _

 

_ It has no meaning at all.  _

 

_ It is the wish of those who realise this, who refuse to accept it.  _

 

_ A wish that the world could be at least a little interesting.  _

 

_ That’s what an urban legend is.  _

 

_...Then, let me try to help you out.  _

 

_ And for the time being, for the sake of form, this is what I’ll write: _

 

_ “Have you ever heard a rumour like this?”  _

 

***

 

_ Beep.  _

 

“It’s an email,” Yuuri mutters. 

 

 _To: “_ _“_

_ Sender: Unknown _

 

_ Have you two ever felt like you were born in the wrong world?  _

 

_ http://www.chess-stimulator.com/game/1409759069710YOI _

 

“What is this?” Viktor hisses, leaning on Yuuri’s roller chair to read the email. “How does he know that Blank’s only comprised of two people?” 

 

_ No one knows that.  _

 

_ No one.  _

 

_ So who is this?  _

 

“What do we do?” Yuuri says, fingers paused on the keyboard, eyebrows furrowed into a guarded look of curiosity. “Who’s this? Is this one of your friends?”

 

“I don’t have friends,” Viktor replies, turning away from the computer screens to blink away some dust in his eyes. 

 

_ (He can practically feel his eyes go dull again.)  _

 

“...Oh.” Yuuri whispers, then turns to look at the screen, hovering the cursor above the link. 

 

“Is he trying to bargain with us?” Viktor muses out loud, eyes narrow. 

 

For the first time in a while, Yuuri cracks a grin, a crooked, almost sinister one, eyes narrowed to slits. 

 

Viktor recognises that look well. 

 

It’s the same look he has on when he’s about to play a game. 

 

_ It’s that look, that same look, that separates gamers from people who merely play games.  _

 

_ Yuuri’s a gamer.  _

 

_ And I am one too.  _

 

“Well, it might be fun to see where this goes,” Yuuri smirks, then clicks on the link. 

 

***

 

Almost instantly, the webpage link opens onto the screen, flashing a bright  _ Welcome!  _ in neon pink before panning away to show…

 

“Chess?” Viktor voices out first, his eyebrow twitching. “Is this a joke?” 

 

“Good… night…” 

 

“Wait, wait!” Viktor yelps, thanking god for his speedy reflexes to catch Yuuri and stop his entire body from falling off the chair. “I can’t handle a high-level chess program on my own! You’re the chess genius!” 

 

“...mmh, fine.” Yuuri grumbles, pulling himself back up again. “I’ll play it, I’ll play it.” 

 

***

 

_ Chess is a finite two-player, zero-sum, perfect-information game.  _

 

_ Luck has no part in it.  _

 

_ Theoretically, there is a perfect solution that will never lose.  _

 

_ But only if you understand the 10^120 possible states of the board.  _

 

_ Which I know Yuuri does.  _

 

Viktor’s small smirk grows wider, watching Yuuri make his moves, step after step. 

 

_ We’ll win this.  _

 

He knows Yuuri. After almost three months of sharing an apartment, he knows him inside out, and vice versa. 

 

He also knows Yuuri’s favourite phrase: 

 

_ Chess is no different from tic-tac-toe.  _

 

And he knows that Yuuri likes it because it’s true. 

 

_ Yuuri has beaten a program designed to defeat chess grandmasters twenty times in a row, alternating between going first and second.  _

 

_ But…  _

 

Yuuri gives a small gasp when the other player’s knight jumps forward, right in front of its two bishops. 

 

“It cut off its own pieces’ advance?” Yuuri whispers, eyes wide in shock. 

 

“...Hold on, Yuuri.” 

 

_ Something isn’t right here. If it’s a program… there’s no way it’ll do that.  _

 

“Viktor…?” 

 

“A program will always select the best move,” Viktor’s eyes zip across the screen. “That’s why you can beat them.” 

 

“Then that means…” 

 

“They’re deliberately using a bad move to lure you in,” Viktor realises, eyes searching the chessboard. “It’s a human.” 

 

Yuuri’s eyes widen just a fraction more, and that’s all Viktor needs to know he’s scared. 

 

“It’s okay, Yuuri,” he soothes, voice low and hopefully comforting. 

 

“...What if I lose?” 

 

“If it’s a contest of skill, you’ll never lose.” Viktor states firmly. “I believe in you.” 

 

Yuuri still doesn’t look very convinced. 

 

“I’ll tell you when they try to spook you or lure you in, and you play, yeah? Remember, the two of us are Blank together.” 

 

There’s suddenly a hand covering Viktor’s own, on the table, and… oh, it’s Yuuri, gently taking Viktor’s hand in his own and moving it to the mouse, hand still on top of his. 

 

Viktor smiles. 

 

“Let’s see if there’s someone who can actually beat us.” 

 

***

 

_ An hour and a half later…  _

 

The computer sound is grating on Viktor’s ears. 

 

_ “Checkmate! You are winner!”  _ it chirps way too happily for 3am in the morning, strobe lights flashing on the chessboard and happy music playing in the background. 

 

“We won, oh my gods,” Yuuri breathes, eyes shining brightly -  _ dang, how does he not get tired? He’s literally been up for 24 hours  _ \- “I haven’t fought this hard in a long time. Were they really human? Because that’s the best game of chess i’ve played so far!”

 

“Even the one against me?” Viktor pouts, slumped on the floor.  _ 3am. 3am, goddamnit! My complexion - it’s ruined. Katsuki Yuuri, you are PAYING for this.  _

 

“Ten-move checkmate,” Yuuri waves a lazy hand. “Too easy.” 

 

_ “What?”  _ Viktor splutters. 

 

_ Beep.  _

 

“It’s another email,” Viktor mutters, standing up and moving the cursor to click on it. 

 

“Same person?” Yuuri suggests, latching on to Viktor’s arm like a cute little panda, gazing up at him with his glimmering eyes. Endearing, really. And unfair, because  _ he’s too damn cute.  _

 

Viktor would pray for Yuuri Katsuki to stay in this position forever if he could. 

 

 _To: “_ _“_

_ Sender: Unknown _

 

_ Well done.  _

 

_ If you’re that good at games -  _

 

_ The world must be a tough place for you to live in, right?  _

 

***

 

There’s a moment of silence as they take the words in. 

 

“What?” Viktor all but hisses, a bead of sweat trickling down his face. 

 

_ What do you think of your world?  _ the email reads, taunting, beckoning. 

 

_ Is it fun?  _

 

_ Is it easy to live in?  _

 

“What do we think, huh?” Viktor grimaces. 

 

_ No... _

 

_ It isn’t fun.  _

 

_ It isn’t easy to live in.  _

 

_ It definitely isn’t easy to survive.  _

 

He knows that himself. 

 

_ So much screaming.  _

 

_ So much shouting.  _

 

_ Too much, too much.  _

 

_ Worthless.  _

 

_ Useless.  _

 

_ Foolish.  _

 

_ A pair of dull eyes, always watching, always observing.  _

 

“There’s no way to know the rules or the goal, yet there are 7 billion players making whatever moves they want,” Yuuri says softly, carefully, like he’s afraid of disturbing something. 

 

“If you lose too much, or win too much, there are penalties,” Viktor continues almost faintly. 

 

“You can’t pass your turn,” Yuuri murmurs, staring down at his own hands. 

 

“If you talk too much, you’ll be ostracised,” Viktor whispers softly. “There are no parameters and no way to even know the genre of this game.” 

 

After a pause, he continues, “This world is just…” 

 

“...a crappy game.” Yuuri finishes for him. 

 

_ Beep.  _

 

 _To: “_ _“_

_ Sender: Unknown _

 

_ If there was a world where simple games decided everything…  _

 

_ A world on a board where the rules and goal were clear, what would you think about that?  _

 

“Haa…” Viktor breathes, his trademark smirk covering his face again, reaching for the keyboard to type out his reply. “Well, then… if that world truly exists… ” 

 

_ Reply _

 

_ To: Unknown _

_Sender: “_ _“_

 

_ If there’s a world like that, then we were born in the wrong world.  _

 

_ Send _

 

_ Fwoom,  _ the computer goes as Viktor clicks the send button. 

 

Suddenly, there’s a flash of blue light. 

 

Then, as one, all of Yuuri’s computer screens fizzle out into black and white static. 

 

“What… what’s going on?” Yuuri gasps, scrambling out of his chair, head turning to each computer screen, fingers tapping frantically on his keyboards. 

 

“Yuuri…” Viktor swallows. 

 

The lights flicker out. 

 

_ “I think so, too!”  _ Suddenly, a boy’s voice echoes through the room, all childish and exuberant, a little garbled by some sort of static, but unmistakably a human.  _ “You were definitely born in the wrong world!”  _

 

A pair of hands are materialising, reaching out of Yuuri’s computer screen, holding what looks like a levitating twisting, spinning diamond in its hands. 

 

_ “So, I’ll let you be reborn-”  _

 

Red lines, resembling cracks, suddenly race up the walls of the room. 

 

_ Crack-crack-crack.  _

 

_ “-In the world you should’ve been born in!”  _

 

The walls of the room splinter into pixels, and dissolve away, and suddenly it’s bright, and they’re falling, falling, falling. 

 

_ “Welcome to my world!”  _ the voice cheers.

 

***

 

They’re literally falling. 

 

Yuuri’s remarkably calm, squinting his eyes against the wind as his raven hair flies upwards in tufts of black locks. 

 

Viktor? 

 

He’s positively  _ terrified.  _

 

“I know that I put skydiving on my bucket list, Yuuri, but I didn’t expect this!” Viktor screeches as they plummet towards the ground, clinging tightly towards each other. 

 

“What is this?” Yuuri yells, his voice whipped away by the wind, hanging tightly onto his glasses. 

 

“This is the world you’ve always dreamed of!” another voice shouts, giggling at them. 

 

It’s the same person, same boyish voice, that transported them here. 

 

“This is the world on a game board: Disboard!” the same person yells, from somewhere above them, and laughs again. 

 

It sounds like a boy no more than 7 years old. 

 

“Everything in this world is decided by simple games!” The boy laughs again, appearing beside Viktor. “People’s lives… even national borders!” 

 

“Who… are you?” Yuuri shouts back, as he angles his body so that the both of them can fall while talking  _ (shouting?) _ to each other. 

 

And Viktor catches sight of the speaker. 

 

It’s definitely a boy about 6 or 7 years old, with a red baggy cap on his head and a green shirt under a red short-sleeved jacket, Asian with brown tanned skin. 

 

But what’s most startling about him is that his eyes are multicolored. 

 

_ Heterochomia iridum,  _ Viktor thinks faintly as they continue to fall.  _ The technical term for people who have multicolored eyes. A 6 in 1000 chance of happening at birth.  _

 

It isn’t quite right to say his eyes are multicolored, though, because his right pupil is in the shape of a yellow diamond with flickering shades of green and red, and his left pupil is in the shape of a green spade with alternating hues of blue and pink. Just looking at him makes Viktor feel a little dizzy - well, more dizzy than he is while plummeting towards the ground at high speed without a super-long bungee rope behind him. 

 

The boy blinks again, flashing a bright smile at them, cheery and confident. 

 

“Me?” he smiles innocently, pointing at himself. “My name’s Phichit! I live over there! And I’m a god!” He points to the horizon, and if Viktor squints, he can see the outline of something huge. 

 

_ Is that… a humongous King chess piece? On the horizon?  _

 

“A god?” Yuuri whimpers, hugging Viktor and burying his face in his oversized sweater. Normally Viktor would coo about how adorable he is, but  _ they’re plummeting towards the ground at high speed and there’s nothing to stop them and the stupid god is still smiling and DOING NOTHING TO STOP IT.  _

 

“Now’s not the time!” he manages to screech out. “What do we do?” 

 

“In this world,” Phichit smiles, showing a little fang tooth on the left side of his mouth, “everything is decided by ten pledges! One, all murder, war, and robbery is forbidden in this world.” 

 

“Eh?!” 

 

“Two! All conflict in this world will be resolved through games!” Phichit cheers, counting off his fingers as they continue to fall. “Three, in games, each player will bet something that they agree is of equal value. Four, as long as it doesn’t go against Three, what they bet and the rules of the games won’t be questioned. Five, the challenged party has the right to decide the rules of the game. Six, any bets made in accordance with the pledges must be upheld.” 

 

“Seven,” Phichit continues, ticking the pledges off his fingers, “all conflicts between groups will be conducted by designated representatives with absolute authority. Eight, being caught cheating during a game is grounds for an instant loss-” 

 

“The ground’s getting closer!” 

 

“-Nine, in the name of God, the previous eight rules may never be changed-” 

 

_ “I said, this is not the time!  _ The ground! The ground is getting closer!” 

 

“Viktor!” 

 

“Yuuri!” With all his might, Viktor heaves his body around so his back will be the first thing that makes contact with the earth, throws his arms around Yuuri, so he can protect Yuuri from hitting the ground before him, and prays. 

 

_ Let Yuuri survive this.  _

 

_ Don’t let him die.  _

 

And with a loud boom, they make impact. 

 

***

 

It’s embarrassing to say he whimpered in fear. 

 

But in the name of being truthful, he did. 

 

When he opens his eyes, he’s in a large pit, and Yuuri’s making a noise somewhere between a squeak and a moan, burying his face in Viktor’s shirt, the frame of his glasses digging into Viktor’s chest, and  _ they’re alive  _ and Viktor wants to sigh in relief. 

 

Except Phichit drops them unceremoniously from where they’re lying on a cushion of air, onto the hard ground, and Viktor makes a wheezing noise that sounds vaguely like he’s dying, because one, all the breath just got knocked out of him, and two,  _ Yuuri Katsuki is currently on top of him and looking up at him with wide scared eyes and Viktor just wants to hug him forever and protect him.  _

 

A shadow walks up to the pit’s edge, and Phichit looms over them, blocking out the sunlight, still grinning like this is all a game. 

 

“And ten: Let’s all have fun and play together!” he chirps, holding up his ten fingers, before winking and vanishing. 

 

“Wha-hey!” Yuuri scrambles up from where he was lying on Viktor’s chest, and jumps out of the shallow pit they’re in, his head turning from left to right to look for Phichit. 

 

_ “I look forward to seeing you again,”  _ Phichit’s voice echoes all around them, his voice lilting and playful.  _ “I don’t think it’ll be very long…”  _

 

“Viktor…” Yuuri’s voice trembles, his back to Viktor, staring out at the world before them, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Where…” 

 

Viktor takes one look out the pit, and his jaw  _ drops.  _

 

The scenery around them is a god’s (Phichit’s?) array of mountains reflected pink and blue under the sun, of snake-shaped twisting rock formations that float in the air like Laputa, shimmering like they’re real gemstones. Even the ground under their feet is powdered pink and yellow, with glittering rocks below the surface -  _ is that real gold?  _

 

“Are we?” Viktor finishes for him. 

 

Yuuri groans, and collapses onto the floor, onto a blood-red boulder that looks like it’s some kind of topaz or amethyst. “I’m not sleepy enough for this,” he grumbles. “And-”

 

“Yuuri,  _ watch out!”  _

 

Now Viktor is thanking God again  _ (if he thanks god in this world, is he by extension thanking Phichit? That no-good little Asian ratty trickster-)  _ for the online self-defense course he forced Yuuri into taking while he was staying at Yuuri’s apartment, because Yuuri remembers enough for him to drop and roll out of the way before the rock he was slumping on heaves up, vertically, and the only thought that goes through Viktor’s head is  _ what in absolute hell  _ before the thing snakes up and up, sending rocks and wind flying. Viktor’s too busy keeping his head down and trying not to scream it off to realise that Yuuri’s rolled onto his back on the stone and is gazing upwards with terrified eyes. 

 

It’s only when the ground stops shaking that Viktor realises why. 

 

_ It’s a dragon.  _

 

_ Where the actual HELL did you transport us to, Phichit?  _

 

“Wh-what’s going on?” Yuuri whimpers, shock visible in his eyes. 

 

“This game is total crap,” Viktor moans from where he’s lying on the ground. 

 

***

 

“We need new clothes,” Yuuri notes, after they’ve walked about half a kilometer on the twisting slopes and rises of the mountain they’ve landed on. 

 

“Good thing this place seems popular because of the streams and waterfalls,” Viktor keeps his voice low, avoiding looking at all the people only clad in their underwear. 

 

“..Viktor.” 

 

“Yeah, Yuuri?” 

 

“This world is defined by games, right?” 

 

“And?” 

 

“So we can challenge anyone here, right?” 

 

“...Ah. I like how you think.” 

 

“Those three?” 

 

“Those three.” 

 

***

 

“Could you at least leave us with some clothes?!” the bearded man pleads from where he’s praying on the ground, in a perfect Japanese dogeza. “You can’t just leave us clad in only fundoshi!” 

 

“Watch me,” Viktor says, because he’s petty like that. 

 

“Viktor…” 

 

“Fine, fine,” Viktor tosses them the extra cloak they’ve won. “Have this-oh wait. Yuuri, what’s pledge six?” 

 

“All bets made in accordance with the pledges must be upheld,” Yuuri reads out loud from his phone where they’ve typed the pledges in, trying and failing to conceal his cross between a smile and a grimace for the three poor men who just lost. 

 

“We bet everything we could offer, including our lives, and you bet everything you owned and had on you now,” Viktor points out, pointing his phone at the three men and scooping up the third cloak. “Be grateful that we’re leaving you with the fundoshi instead of without it.” 

 

With that, Viktor and Yuuri put on their brown cloaks and leave, carrying the men’s belongings, while the three men who they defeated scream in anger in the background. 

 

***

 

“Looks like even thieves can’t rob you or kill you,” Viktor notes. 

 

“Even if they want to, they probably can’t,” Yuuri points out, wrapping his own cloak a little tighter around himself. 

 

“In other words… it all comes down to your skill at the game, doesn’t it?” Viktor stops, watches the countryside, feels the wind rake through his short hair. 

 

“Maybe we can survive in this world after all,” Yuuri says, and Viktor feels a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. 

 

***

 

“A gambling tournament to decide Imanity’s next king, eh?” Viktor looks around at his surroundings, the bustling wooden bar and restaurant with an inn attached at the back, in the middle of the bustling city. 

 

“It was the last king’s dying wish,” A blonde woman sitting on the patio with too much blue eyeshadow drawls, taking a long puff from her cigarette, “He wanted the next king to be humanity’s best gambler.” 

 

“So even the king is decided by a game?” 

 

_ Interesting.  _

 

“The brown-haired boy there is Guang-hong Ji,” the blonde woman muses, studying the boy in question with a sharp glance. “He’s the grandson of the last king, but because of his grandfather’s will, he can’t be king immediately. So he’s entered the gambling tournament.” 

 

Suddenly, Yuuri slumps against the wall, still wrapped in his brown cloak, and sighs. 

 

“Hey, Yuuri, you okay?” Viktor reaches out immediately, and slowly grabs his hand. 

 

All Yuuri does is make a faint noise that sounds like a snuffling panda, his eyes low and downcast. 

 

_...he’s tired.  _

 

_ We need a place to stay, but to do that we need money…  _

 

His eyes drift to the full pouch of gold coins that sit beside the blonde woman. 

 

_...Oh.  _

 

“I’m fine,” Yuuri murmurs, hunching in on himself. “Just… tired.” 

 

“Heh,” the blonde woman Viktor’s looking at smirks at him. “Falling in love with me?” 

 

_ She thinks we’re easy prey, eh?  _

 

“Nah,” Viktor drawls back, long and slow, with an air of confidence, while he saunters across to sit across from the woman. “Just wondering if you were going to enter.” 

 

“Me?” The woman smirks, not backing down from the hidden challenge. “This-” she pokes the pouch of gold coins, “-is all I need. And... “ 

 

For a moment, her expression shifts into something close to fear and respect. 

 

“That Yuri boy is so strong that most of the other players withdrew,” she points at Guang-hong’s challenger, the boy with blonde hair and sharp green eyes. 

 

“Me?” Yuuri blinks. 

 

“No, not you.” the woman waves a hand dismissively. “Yuri Plisetsky.” 

 

_ Got you.  _

 

“In other words, you’re scared, eh?” Viktor makes the first move, taunts her, curls an imaginary finger in her face, daring her to take one step closer to take his unspoken challenge. 

 

“What?” she says, expression shifting into something resembling defiance. 

 

Just for the moment, Viktor keeps his face carefully controlled, although he loosens his grip on his emotions to let his imaginary self’s mouth curls up in a smirk. 

 

_ She did take the bait, after all.  _

 

“Oh,” Viktor widens his eyes in faux surprise, faking an expression of scandalous shock, “What, are you scared of an  _ outsider _ ?” 

 

The woman’s teeth grind, her eyes speaking volumes of rage and self doubt and fear. 

 

_ So you need to prove to yourself you can beat him, eh?  _

 

“You are outsiders,” the woman speaks calmly, her eyelids twitching. “Just because you are newcomers does not mean I can’t beat you. Do you want to try your hand at poker?” 

 

“Well, as long as you don’t actually lose here, you can make any amount of excuses later.” Viktor mirrors his imaginary self’s knowing smile, eyes observing the woman, flicking a hand out dismissively, the perfect image of coolness. “‘I actually won, but I let him go’, for example.” 

 

“Hm, interesting. Want to play, boy?” The way the woman says it rubs Viktor the wrong way, especially the emphasis she places on the word “boy”, toying around with it, elongating the syllables so she makes it seem like a plaything. 

 

Which he is to her. 

 

But he can see one of her hands, poised ever so slightly over the cards next to the coin pouch, and knows she’s taking it. 

 

_ It’s time.  _

 

Viktor smirks, a cruel, dangerous thing, his eyes narrowed.

 

“Sorry, but I don’t play for fun,” and he makes sure to narrow his eyes a little more, “Bet all that money.” 

 

The woman jerks her hands back from the cards, mouth falling open into a perfect o, doll-like in its quality. “What?! Do you know how much is in here? We have to bet something we both agree is equal, or it isn’t a game.” 

 

“Ah… Pledge Three, wasn’t it, Yuuri,” Viktor addresses him, and Yuuri must have guessed what Viktor is going to do, because he pushes himself off the wall and stalks over silently, coming to a stop by Viktor’s side, standing tall. “Fair enough…” 

 

All he needs is a brief glance towards Yuuri to know that he agrees with what he’s about to do next, because Yuuri’s eyes glint, and a corner of his mouth tugs up. 

 

“How about you can do whatever you want with the two of us?” 

 

The woman makes a gulping noise that sounds vaguely like a fish out of water. 

 

Viktor ignores her and continues. “Sell us, abandon us, whatever you want.” 

 

“Are you serious?” The woman growls in disbelief. 

 

Yuuri opens his eyes, revealing his shining brown eyes, intoxicating, drowning, like the darkest dregs of a cup of beer. “We’re serious.” 

 

“We’ll play a single game of poker,” Viktor cuts off the woman before she can say anything else. “What do you say?” 

 

It feels like an eternity, watching the woman’s eyes dart back and forth between their faces, before she settles for clenching and unclenching her jaw nervously. 

 

“This is your last chance to quit,” Viktor adds cheerfully. 

 

The woman growls again, her eye twitching. Viktor can almost see her composure and patience unravelling bit by bit, like loose thread braided together, and come apart, twisting and turning. “Don’t get cocky, outsider,” she warns, eyes now slits. 

 

Viktor can see her hands trembling on her coin pouch, bangles jingling, and he secretly wills it to move. 

 

“Alright, I’ll do it.” The woman lifts up her left hand, like she’s about to take an oath, and says, “I swear by the pledges.” 

 

Viktor copies her motion, and echoes, “I swear by the pledges.” 

 

Then together, in unison, they shout,  _ “Aschente!”  _

 

***

 

The woman is a fast dealer, he’ll give her that. There’s no room for error if he’s about to do what he’s going to do. 

 

Then suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he can see it. 

 

It’s a small miniscule thing, the way her pupils dilate when she passes out one of the cards into her pile, but it’s enough for him to know. 

 

_ The woman plans to cheat.  _

 

He loves his skill at moments like these, uses it sparingly, but he can almost see the thoughts running through her head. 

 

_ Just a stupid kid from the backwoods with more confidence than anything. That bluff may work in your little village…  _

 

_ But it won’t work here!  _

 

“Viktor…” Yuuri turns to him. 

 

“I saw,” Viktor cuts Yuuri off. “I know.” 

 

With another tired sigh, Yuuri returns to his original position, standing slightly hunched with his cape thrown messily around his shoulders, black hair obscured by the hood. 

 

_ Play the game, Viktor. Do what you know you should do.  _

 

Viktor purposely lets out a sigh, and dumps his hand. 

 

“Bad luck, eh?” The woman looks at him with pity, voice laced with delicate amounts of condescension and venom. “Poor you.” 

 

“Yeah, I started the day with a 10,000 meter skydive, then walked forever under the blazing sun,” Viktor says conversationally as he picks his new cards. “Definitely a bad day.” 

 

“What are you talking about?” 

 

“Nothing. You ready?” 

 

“I’m ready,” the woman purrs, victory already trickling into her voice. “I’ll let you switch cards once more, if you want.” 

 

Imaginary Viktor can’t help but smile.

 

_ Ha.  _

 

“No thanks,” Viktor replies out loud. 

 

“Oh?” the woman’s eyes narrow, her mouth curving up. “Then…” 

 

The woman’s face instantly morphs from careful sharpened glass to delightful, sadistic, foxy glee. “Sorry, boy!” 

 

With a flourish, she slams her cards on the table. 

 

“Full house!” 

 

Viktor lets a full three seconds of silence pass by before he says, “Oh yeah. ‘Sorry’ is right,” standing up and turning over his cards, face still the perfect expression of cool. 

 

It’s funny, how he can pinpoint the exact second when the woman realises what he has, because her eyes widen and her mouth opens, and she stammers,” Ro… Royal… S… straight… f-f-flush?!” 

 

_ Incoming.  _ Viktor silently covers his ears in advance, and motions for Yuuri to do the same. And it’s a good thing they do, because the woman suddenly shrieks, as loud as a wailing banshee. 

 

“No way! No way! No way!” she screams, clawing at her eyes as if it’ll make the cards go away. 

 

“Look closely,” Viktor snaps. “It’s real.” 

 

“Impossible!” the woman screeches again, slamming her hands on the table and pushing her face unnecessarily close to Viktor’s hand of cards. “There’s only a 1 in 6,150,000 chance…” 

 

“And that’s exactly what happened,” Viktor replies, tossing his hair, letting the short platinum fringe covering his left eye fly open. 

 

“But-” 

 

“Pledge six. Any bets must be upheld. Now, hand over the money.” 

 

“Wh… who are you?” the woman stammers. 

 

“Oh... nobody special,” Viktor smiles as the bag of money drops into his hand with a satisfying clink. “Just an outsider.” 

 

With a flourish, he and Yuuri walk away, leaving the woman stunned on the patio. 

 

***

 

It isn’t til they’re far away from the woman, heading towards the inn next to the restaurant they’re in, that Yuuri starts to talk. 

 

“You know, that was cheating, Viktor,” he says, a glint of amusement lighting up his eyes while he takes off his glasses to wipe them clean. “Really obvious cheating, too.” 

 

“Pledge Eight: Being caught cheating during a game is grounds for an instant loss.” Viktor reads out loud from his phone, shoving it quickly into his pocket. “In other words, if you’re not caught, it’s okay.” 

 

“How much is in there?” Yuuri blinks at the coin pouch. 

 

“No idea,” Viktor tosses the coin pouch carelessly. “Leave the room-and-bed negotiations to me - they’re my forte, after all.” 

 

“Two beds,” Yuuri interrupts before he can say anything. 

 

“But, Yuuriiii~” Viktor whines. 

 

“I am not sharing a bed with you again,” Yuuri states, walking ahead again without waiting for Viktor to catch up. “The last time we fell asleep together on the bed during movie night, which was a  _ horrible  _ suggestion, if I may add-” 

 

“Titanic is a nice movie!” 

 

“Jack  _ died,  _ Viktor! He died!” Yuuri huffs. “And you kicked me twice in the stomach!” 

 

“I still don’t believe that I did,” Viktor pouts. “I don’t kick.” 

 

“You  _ do,  _ Viktor. You do. And two beds, not one. If you ask for one bed I’ll murder you in your sleep.” 

 

***

 

“One room, please,” Viktor says to the narrow-eyed man at the inn counter scribbling on a clipboard, placing a gold coin on the counter. “Two beds. How many nights can I stay with this?” 

 

The man narrows his eyes at the coin, then flicks his gaze away. “One night.” 

 

_ Liar.  _

 

“I’m really tired, you know,” Viktor smiles, puts on his charm, before he raises his voice so everyone in the inn can hear. “Now why don’t you really tell me how many nights I can stay here?” 

 

The people chatting idly nearby turn around to stare at the inn owner, and Viktor can see his jaw clench and unclench. 

 

“Here’s a tip, you know,” he says lightly. “If you’re trying to cheat someone, you should pay attention to your tone and where you’re looking.” 

 

The man makes a condescending noise. “Two nights,” he snaps, his eyes focused on the gold coin Viktor has one finger on. 

 

“Oh, and  _ there _ you go  _ again!”  _ Viktor mocks, lifting his finger from the gold coin to point his finger at the inn owner’s face. 

 

“I’ll give you another tip,” Viktor leans in, only inches from the man’s face. “Think carefully about who you lie to, yeah?” 

 

***

 

“Four nights! Thank you, sir!” Viktor calls out, swinging the key around his finger. 

 

“Tch,” the man keeps his eyes downcast, writing down their room number. “Hey, what’s your name?” 

 

“Oh, that?” Viktor waves a hand. “Just leave it blank.” 

 

***

 

The first thing that Viktor spots when he walks back into the restaurant area is Yuuri, sitting on a bench beside the ongoing poker tournament, using his phone to snap pictures of the match between Guang-hong Ji and Yuri Plisetsky. 

 

“Hey, sorry for the wait, Yuuri,” Viktor strolls over, patting Yuuri’s head. 

 

Yuuri raises his head, and blinks at the game. “He’s going to lose,” he whispers, pointing at Guang-hong. 

 

“Obviously,” Viktor snorts, following Yuuri’s gaze to watch the light-brown haired boy, nervously twitching in his seat as he stares at his poker cards. He looks almost ready to throw up with fright. “He doesn’t know the meaning of the term ‘poker face’, unlike his oppo-” 

 

_ Hold on.  _

 

_ Why are all of Yuri’s cards hearts- _

 

Viktor frowns at Yuri Plisetsky. “He’s cheating?” 

 

“No doubt about it,” Yuuri breathes. “But… I can’t figure out how.” 

 

“Sure? Genius math skills included?” Viktor furrows his eyebrows when Yuuri nods once. “I see… I can’t believe it, but this world…” 

 

He casts a quick glance around the pub, and his eyes zero in on a man sitting to the wall, brown hood covering his head and luminous brown eyes firmly fixed on the game. 

 

Yuuri follows Viktor’s gaze, and murmurs, “There.” 

 

“Seriously?” Viktor says, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his neck, “He plans to cheat like that?” before Yuri says something that draws his attention back towards the game. 

 

“So what will you do? Fold?” 

 

“Sh-shut up!” Guang-hong practically squeals, his eyes blinking with unshed tears. “Let’s fight, fair and square! Um… um.... Um….” His last mumble turns into a squeak of despair as he draws his final card. “Okay, Guang-hong, okay… you can do this, you can do this…” he mutters as he pushes his coin to the middle of the table.

 

Viktor rushes over, and whispers into his ear, “He’s cheating.” 

 

“Eh… eh? ” 

 

Viktor and Yuuri walk away, up to their room. 

 

***

 

“Smartphones, DSPs, tablet, battery and solar charger, cables…” 

 

“Is this really all we have?” Yuuri says softly, holding up his own phone. 

 

“Well, after all we’ve been through, maybe we’re lucky we still have this much,” Viktor replies, sitting himself cross-legged on one bed. 

 

“I can’t get a signal…” 

 

“I’m sure,” Viktor grins, then looks out the window. “This is a true fantasy world. The way Yurio was cheating, though… Seriously, there’s gotta be a limit. Can’t believe no one’s noticed…” 

 

“Yurio?” Yuuri blinks in confusion, one eyebrow furrowed. 

 

“It’s what I’ve been calling the other Yuri in my head to not mix you two up,” Viktor laughs. “It’s what you’d call him in Japan, right?” 

 

“Yes… how did you know?” 

 

“I did research,” Viktor shrugs a shoulder. 

 

“Hey, Viktor,” Yuuri sighs softly. “Are you sure you can beat that? The guy in the tavern  definitely isn’t a human, judging from his diamond pupils, which probably means he has magic we don’t know how to counter.” 

 

All Viktor does in reply is continue to stare out the window, a smile now on his face. 

 

“Ugh… stupid question,” Yuuri mutters, before flopping down on the bed. “Of course you can.” 

 

“Hey, Yuuri…” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“You trust me right?” 

 

“What kind of a question is that?” Yuuri blinks up at Viktor, eyes already half closed. 

 

“Usually in books, when the protagonist ends up in another world, they always try to find a way back, right?” 

 

“Mmh… yeah?” 

 

“I was just thinking… why would they want to go back to a world like that?” Viktor stares at the beautiful scenery outside, at the rainbow-hued hills rising in the distance, the lake spread out before them. 

 

_ That world… is cruel.  _

 

_ It’s boring.  _

 

_ It’s not fun.  _

 

_ So why would they want to go back to a world like that?  _

 

He waits for a reply, but gets none. 

 

“...Oh,” Viktor breathes, when he notices Yuuri’s asleep on his bed, illuminated by the soft sunlight with his mouth in a little o, parted like he’s about to take a breath. 

 

The scene’s beautiful, really. 

 

_ Heh… he’s beautiful too.  _

 

_ You may not notice it, Yuuri, but you are.  _

 

With a sigh, Viktor moves to pull the blankets over Yuuri’s sleeping form, but not before Yuuri mumbles, “I think so, too…” 

 

Viktor can’t help the smile that grows steadily on his face as he pulls the blanket up to cover Yuuri’s sleeping form. 

 

“Sleep well, Yuuri,” he whispers softly, exhaling a puff of breath into the air. 

 

Then, his gaze drifts to his phone, sitting innocuously on the windowsill.

 

On his Reminders app, the words “Find a home” and “Conquer Disboard” flash up on the screen for a second, before they’re gone. 

 

“Now… let the game begin.” 

 

**chapter 1: disboard**

**~end~**

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys want some previews of checkmate chapters before they actually come out do follow me on tumblr at [silencedfalcon](https://silencedfalcon.tumblr.com/) ! I promise I don't bite :)


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